


Library Hero: The Library Encounters of Dallon Weekes and Breezy Douglas

by smellslikelithium



Category: I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), Panic! at the Disco, The Brobecks
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Attempt at Humor, Awkwardness, Bonding, Confessions, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Getting Together, Gun Violence, One Shot, Pining, Romance, Sad Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2020-05-15 11:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19294897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smellslikelithium/pseuds/smellslikelithium
Summary: In which Dallon and Breezy meet in their school library, causing twelve (and then some) things to happen.





	Library Hero: The Library Encounters of Dallon Weekes and Breezy Douglas

The first time it happens, one of them has a paper due after lunch. The other is just there to volunteer.

Dallon Weekes finds himself sitting in the computer lab in his high school library, his fingers rapidly typing anything that comes to mind relating to the American revolution in whatever year-he honestly doesn’t remember at this point. He just wants to get this done.

When he’s finally done, he goes to the printer to print it. As he walks there, however, he spots someone placing new paper into it. He notices the person has long straight dark hair, and it looks very freshly washed. Dallon can’t relate; he has the hygiene of a cape ground squirrel mixed with an elephant.

The person, sensing his gaze on them, turns to look at him. It’s a girl who smiles at him. “Can I help you?”

Dallon blinks, not thinking before he starts clapping. “Hooray, the printer’s been refilled!” He cheers. “You’re the library’s hero, random person I just met!”

The girl giggles, and Dallon notices that she has a very nice lip-glossed smile. “Why thank you. It’s always nice to have my heroic deeds noticed.”

Dallon chuckles. “How long have you been a library hero here? I’d say I would have noticed you if you’ve been here a long time, but the library isn’t exactly my scene.”

“Oh?” The girl raises an eyebrow at him. “Then what exactly is your scene?”

Dallon shrugs. “Anywhere with music, honestly. I’m in a band.”

The girl’s eyes light up, as if Dallon’s flipped some sort of switch. “Wow, really?”

Dallon’s never understood why girls like guys in bands so much, but there’s no way he’s about to complain. Especially in front of this girl, who’s getting prettier as time goes on. “Yeah. I’m the bassist and lead singer for The Brobecks. You probably haven’t heard of us, since we’re a high school garage band on SoundCloud, but we’re not as bad as my neighbors may think.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to give you guys a listen and decide for myself.” She smiles.

“That sounds like a great idea. More people listening fuels my ego.”

The girl giggles again. “Well, I’ll go and fuel it for you.” She begins to walk away. “See you later, bass guy.”

He waves after her. “See you later, library hero.”

The second time it happened, it was all Brendon Urie’s girlfriend’s fault.

It had been a while-a few weeks, maybe-since Dallon met the library hero. He had almost forgotten about her, and he would have if he didn’t have to pass the library every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to go to his English class.

Though this time, it’s not him that has to print something. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend, Sarah, who was supposed to meet up with Brendon Urie, Dallon’s best friend, so they could go out to lunch together and had somehow vanished instead.

Brendon had dragged Dallon all across the school looking for her, his reasoning being that he doesn’t like to look for things alone. Now they’re in the library, Brendon looking far and wide so he can satisfy his hungry stomach. Dallon just wants to see if the library hero is still here.

He spots the hero wheeling a big cart full of books a few feet away. With as much swagger as Dallon can possibly manage, he walks over to her and smirks. “Need some help?”

She looks up at him and smiles, and it looks much prettier now than it did before. “No thanks. The library hero has no sidekicks.”

“Ah, so you’re a strong independent woman.” Dallon nods. “I admire that.”

The hero chuckles a bit, wheeling the cart towards a shelf of books. She begins to place the books on the shelf, turning her head to face Dallon. “Well, I’m glad I have your approval, Dallon J. Weekes.”

Dallon blinks. “Um, how do you know my name?”

“It’s in your band’s SoundCloud bio.” She explains. “I’m not a stalker. I just read bios.”

“Ah.” Dallon nods. “So, you know my name, but I don’t know yours. I see some flaws in this predicament.”

The hero turns back to the shelves, still placing the books onto their respective shelves. “I don’t wanna say. You’d laugh.”

“I doubt it.” Dallon says. “My last name is literally just weeks with an extra e. I won’t judge you.”

The hero turns back to him. “Okay, fine. My name’s Breezy.”

“Breezy.” Dallon repeats. “Is it just me, or-”

“-Or did it just get breezy in here?” Breezy finishes. “Yeah, I’ve gotten them before. It’s Spanish and was my mom’s idea. I don’t know what was going through her head when I was born.”

“Oh come on, you don’t have a bad name.” Dallon nudges her shoulder with his. “I’ve heard worse. At least you’re not North West.”

Breezy chuckles at that. “You have a point.”

“Dallon, there you are!” Brendon exclaims, jogging up to him while holding Sarah’s hand. “I found Sarah, we can go now.”

Sarah waves with her free hand. “Hey Dallon!” She turns to Breezy. “Hey Breeze!”

Breezy smiles. “Hey Sarah.”

“Come on, let’s go.” Brendon grabs Dallon’s hand and drags him away. “Bye random library chick!”

Dallon waves goodbye to Breezy, who smiles and waves back.

The third time it happens, it’s all because of a spare and a bathroom break.

Breezy, having nothing to do this particular spare period she has, she finds herself in the library. Though the librarian told her there’s nothing for her to do, she still sits on one of the couches in a small reading area, reapplying her lip gloss as she watches herself in the front camera of her phone.

“Well hello there.” A familiar voice rings, sitting down next to her.

She turns to the voice, smiling when she sees it’s Dallon. “Well hello to you too. I didn’t know you had a spare this period.”

“I technically don’t.” Dallon explains. “I asked my math teacher if I could go to the bathroom, and I thought I’d stop by to see if you were here.”

“Why me?” Breezy asks, blinking in confusion. “Why not look for your girlfriend so you guys can run through the halls together towards a beautiful sunset?”

“I went looking for her, but it turns out she’s nonexistent.” Dallon replies. “What about you? Why are you here and not with your boyfriend making out against a locker.”

“I would be, but he’s nonexistent just like your girlfriend.”

“Wait, seriously?” Dallon asks, sounding very confused. “I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?” Breezy asks. “I spend most of my free time either in this library or at home watching Doctor Who.”

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t be single. People who watch Doctor Who are the best kinds of people.” Dallon explains. “Besides, someone as pretty as you probably has at least ten guys begging you to at least like their post on Instagram.”

Breezy bites her lip, fighting a smile as her cheeks begin to heat up. “Well, you’d be surprised. You’re the first guy to willingly talk to me in a while.”

“I still don’t believe you. I need photographic evidence, Ms. Breezy.”

“I can’t provide photographic evidence for what doesn’t exist, Mr. Weekes.”

Dallon thinks for a moment. “Good point. You win.”

“I didn’t know we were competing, but I’ll take whatever I can get.” Breezy shrugs.

Dallon chuckles. “You’re not bad, Breezy.”

Breezy smiles again. “You’re not bad either, Dallon. But you’ll be dead if you don’t get back to math soon.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Dallon gets up. “Talk to you later, library hero.”

Breezy waves to him as he leaves. “See you later, Brobeck.”

The fourth time it happens, it’s not in a library.

Breezy finds herself on Sarah’s couch, a party going on around her on a Friday night. It’s Sarah’s birthday, and her parents left her home alone so she could have a small party with her friends. But when Brendon Urie gets involved, a small party turns into a huge one with booze and party games not suitable for young audiences.

Breezy tries not to pay attention to the loud music booming all around her, just wanting to be at home watching TV and maybe even listening to some more Brobecks demos. As much as she didn’t really want to admit it for some reason, they were really good.

“Fancy catching you here, Breezy.”

Breezy smiles, recognizing the voice as she stares at her lap. “Fancy catching you here, Dallon. I thought parties weren’t your scene.”

“Not normally, but Brendon dragged me here.” Dallon points behind him towards Brendon, who has an arm around Sarah as he drinks a beer, listening to his girlfriend talk. “I’m glad he did. While he’s off fucking Sarah, we can have some Dreezy time.”

Breezy laughs. “What the Hell is Dreezy?”

“It’s our names combined to make one colossal name.” Dallon explains. “It unifies us, so if someone asks where we are, someone else can be like `oh, Dreezy’s off watching Doctor Who.’”

Breezy laughs again, gently shaking her head. “God, you really are something.”

“Is that a good something?”

Breezy nods. “Yes, that’s a very good something.”

He grins, and Breezy becomes very aware of how good the lighting makes him look. She has no idea how he’s able to be so handsome, a term she only uses on men she deems worthy of the title. She licks her lips, her gaze moving from his soft eyes to his lips, and she wants to kiss him.

Fuck off, hormones, she tells herself.You’ve only actually talked to this guy four times, not counting the times you see him in the halls at school and wave. Take it down a notch.

She heeds to her own advice. “So, you wanna sneak off to Sarah’s room and watch Doctor Who on her TV?”

Dallon’s grin gets bigger. “I thought you’d never ask.”

And that’s how they spend the rest of the night in Sarah’s room watching TV, sitting far enough apart from each other on her bed but not far enough so they wouldn’t be able to nudge each other for making a corny joke or bursting into song at any random moment.

And honestly, they both prefer this more than kissing.

The fifth time it happens, they don’t even see each other.

It’s three in the morning on a Saturday, a week after Sarah’s birthday, when Breezy gets a text from an unknown number.

Heeeeeeyo it’s ya boi Dal Pal from the library and Sarahah’s party

Breezy smiles to herself, adding him to her contacts and texting him back.

Heeeeeello Dal Pal, it’s me ya gurl Breezy aka Library Hero aka Queen

He texts back almost instantly.

I see no error in any of those statements, especially that last one.

She feels her cheeks begin to heat up, making her wonder a) why is a simple text enough to make her all flustered, and b) what exactly is this guy doing to her?

The sixth time it happens, one of their moms begins to get suspicious.

On the days that they don’t see each other, Dallon finds himself texting Breezy whenever he feels remotely bored. Even when he has homework to do, he puts it off for about twenty minutes so he can talk to her. He doesn’t know what exactly he likes the most about talking to her, but he knows something’s definitely going on.

And he doesn’t know how to feel about that at all.

Today, he spams her with things he hopes she’ll find funny.

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag?

Or a Gucci bag?

Or a Kate Spade bag?

Or a Louis Vuitton bag?

Or a n y t h i n g ?

Asking for a friend.

About five minutes later, she replies:

Eh, sometimes I feel like a plastic bag but other days I’m a Louis Vuitton kind of girl. You know?

He waits a few moments to reply, not wanting to seem desperate (despite the spamming and all the other times he replied in less than a second).

That would be a great way to explain gender-fluidity. Like, some days you feel like bringing a plastic bag to work but other days you feel like bringing your Louis Vuitton because it’s just how you feel that day.

She replies:

I don’t know who the Hell would bring a plastic bag to work, but I totally agree.

He replies:

Maybe I would bring a plastic bag to work Breezy. Don’t judge and don’t assume.

She laughs, going to reply before someone’s voice startles her.

“Who’re you texting, honey?” Breezy’s mother asks in the doorway of her room.

“Oh, it’s no one.” Breezy lies. “It’s just Sarah.”

“But isn’t she on that ski trip and out of cell range for the weekend?”

“Oh, did I say Sarah?” Breezy asks. “I meant Jenna.”

Mrs. Douglas narrows her eyes, but doesn’t say what she’s thinking. “Alright, if you say so honey.” She walks away.

She texts back:

#dontjudge2k18 #dontassume2k18

He texts back:

This is why I love talking to you. You get me.

Her cheeks heat up again as she replies.

Likewise.

The seventh time it happens, it’s very brief.

Dallon fiddles with his pencil during English class, trying not to fall asleep to the monotone tone of his teacher’s voice. Brendon, who’s sitting in the desk next to him, is already asleep. Dallon won’t be surprised if he gets caught. He usually does.

Dallon looks out the window of the closed classroom door, becoming oddly fascinated with one of the many lockers in the hall. His fascination soon transfers from the locker to Breezy, who’s walking through the hall and happens to notice him dying in the classroom. She stops and waves, smiling her perfect little smile that Dallon loves to see. He smiles and waves back, catching the attention of his teacher.

“Excuse me?”

The sharp snap of the teacher’s voice is enough to wake Brendon, who sits up properly and pretends he wasn’t just asleep. Breezy notices and takes off running so the teacher can’t catch her, making Dallon’s heart hurt just a bit at her sudden disappearance.

He wants to hit himself in the head. What the fuck is going on?

The eighth time it happens, they get teased by their friends.

“So, I heard you’ve been hanging out with Dallon a lot.” Sarah says, wiggling an eyebrow after watching Breezy light up and wave at Dallon as they passed each other in the hall at lunch. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing.” Breezy says, sounding a bit dejected. “We’ve only technically hung out twice. Once was for five minutes and the other was at your party.”

“Yeah, when you two snuck off to my room and watched Netflix.” Sarah wiggles her eyebrows again, earning a nudge from her best friend.

“Nothing happened, I swear.”

“Did you want something to?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Breezy groans. “The lighting was just really good at the party, okay? And ever since then my feelings have just been...amped, I guess.”

“Ah, I know the feeling.” Sarah sighs. “When I met B, I couldn’t stop thinking about him after I saw him perform at that open mic thing last year. Let’s just hope you and Dallon end up like us.”

“I doubt it.” Breezy admits. “We’re just friends, and that’s probably all we’ll ever be.”

~~

“I saw the way you looked at Breezy today.” Brendon wiggles his eyebrows at Dallon as they hang out in Brendon’s room after school. “Spill the beans, Dally Boy.”

“There’s nothing to spill.” Dallon says, falling back on his bed. “I just like her, that’s all.”

“Like her how?” Brendon falls beside him. “Like, as a friend? Or do you wanna fuck her?”

Dallon shakes his head. “I don’t think we’re in fucking territory yet. It’s more like my heart rate increases when I see her and I really like talking to her and she makes my insides melt.”

“Aw!” Brendon swoons. “It sounds like you’re getting a crush!”

“Ugh!” Dallon groans, covering his face with his arms. “Crushes are stupid!”

“Sometimes.” Brendon shrugs. “But I had one on Sarah and look at us now.”

“But you’re you and Sarah’s Sarah.” Dallon mumbles. “Breezy’s Breezy, and I’m just…me.”

“But you’re great, man.” Brendon says. “If I were gay, you’d be the first guy I’d hit up.”

“Likewise, but I don’t have a chance this time.” Dallon sighs. “God, why do we have to be straight?”

“Because boobs.”

“True.”

The ninth time it happened, there was ringing in their ears.

Breezy, yet another week later, approached Dallon after school and invited him to her house to watch more Doctor Who. As much as he wanted to, he had to tell her no; he had to go to a Brobecks rehearsal, but she was welcome to join if she wanted.

So Breezy joined, sitting on Ryan Seaman’s couch and getting to listen to Dallon’s band live for the first time. She’s blown away by Dallon’s vocals and how well he can play bass while singing; she once tried to sing while playing piano and just couldn’t. It took too much concentration and practise, two things eight-year-old her didn’t have or didn’t have time to get. She doesn’t know how Dallon can do it.

The entire time he’s playing, Dallon’s either trying to look at Breezy to see how she feels about the whole thing or trying not to look at her so he doesn’t get too nervous. He feels more relaxed by her presence but also more tense, since holy fuck it’s Breezy l i s t e n i n g t o m e p l a y holy shit, and holy shit if I mess up and Ryan calls me out on it I’m gonna throw myself out a fucking window.

By the time practise is over and Dallon begins to walk Breezy home, both of their ears are ringing from all the loud music.

“So, how did you like the practise?” Dallon asks, his hands shoved deep in his sweater pockets.

“It was really good!” Breezy exclaims, unaware that she is due to all the ringing in her ears. “Really loud, but really good!”

“It was too loud, apparently.” Dallon chuckles. “If you keep talking like that, the whole city will hear about how awesome The Brobecks hypothetically are.”

“Oh, sorry.” Breezy lets out a small giggle, lowering her voice. “But I seriously liked it a lot. You and Ryan are extremely talented.”

Dallon smiles. “Thanks. We don’t get that a lot, so it means a lot that you say that.”

Breezy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Ryan’s parents only let him play in their garage on days where they’re not home.” Dallon explains. “My parents only really like gospel music, so every time we play at my house we always get told we’re being too loud.”

“Oh.” Breezy looks down at the sidewalk, an idea forming in her head. “If you want, you could play in my garage. I doubt my mother would mind.”

Dallon brightens up, his iconic grin on his face. “Seriously?”

Breezy looks up at him and nods. “Yeah, of course.”

Dallon suddenly has a very vivid fantasy of, as his special way of thanking her, picking her up and giving her a passionate kiss. The fantasy is so vivid that, for a moment, he thinks it actually happened. But then he sees Breezy walking next to him, her hands in her sweater pockets just like him, and her cherry red lip gloss untouched, and he remembers that it’s only a fantasy.

Fuck reality.

The tenth time it happens, a parent is a cockblock.

Dallon and Ryan set up in Breezy’s garage the next day, and will Mrs. Douglas’ blessing, they begin practising whenever they can. Breezy sometimes sits in, giving them feedback on new songs and whether or not Dallon sang a note flat (which he most of the time never did). On the times where Breezy will sit and do her homework, allowing The Brobecks to be the white noise she needs to concentrate, Dallon will play a game he likes to call It Just Got Breezy In Here, Since I Gotta Get Her Head To Look Up And Create A Breeze From Her Luscious Hair Slicing Through The Air. He knows the title needs some work, but he’s too busy playing the game to even think about fixing it. While playing it, he’ll either hit a note a bit higher than necessary, attempt to do a backbend and fall over, or moan really loud into the microphone. If he’s in a good mood, he’ll pull a triple whammy and do all three at once. But that only happened once, and it was catastrophic. We don’t talk about that one time.

After Dallon’s gained Breezy’s attention today with a high note mixed with a moan, Ryan excuses himself and goes to the bathroom. Dallon leans his bass on the garage wall before sitting down on the couch next to Breezy, gaining her attention yet again.

“Febreezy, I’d like to think I’m more important than some stupid homework.” Dallon says.

Breezy gives him a confused look. “Febreezy?”

“Yeah, it’s my nickname for you.” Dallon explains. “Because Breezy sounds like Febreze, and if you morph them together you get Febreezy. Plus, you smell nice today so that just adds onto your nickname.”

Breezy laughs. “God, you’re so weird.”

Dallon pretends to dust off his shoulders. “I try.”

Breezy says nothing for the next little while, just looking at Dallon and not noticing that he knows she’s been staring at him for what feels like forever. “Um.” Dallon coughs, getting her attention. “Is there something on my face?”

Breezy furrows her eyebrows. “No, why?”

“You were staring at me.”

“Oh.” She feels her cheeks heating up. Jesus fucking Christ. “Sorry. You just…”

Dallon raises an eyebrow, suddenly very intrigued. “I’m just...what? Devilishly handsome? The hottest tamale you’ve ever seen?”

Breezy giggles. “Sure, let’s stick with those.”

Dallon smirks. “You’re not so bad yourself, Febreezy. Not bad at all.”

“I mean.” Breezy shrugs. “Yeah, I’m not.”

Dallon chuckles. “Oh, shut up.”

Breezy raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Make me.”

Dallon, without thinking, reaches into his pack pocket and pulls out a crushed Pop Tart, still in it’s package. “This’ll shut you up. It’s filled with chocolate.”

Breezy shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you me-oh!” Dallon’s eyes widen. “You, uh, wanted me to do that?”

Breezy says nothing.

“Well…” Dallon shrugs, a smile on his face. “Oka-”

The door behind them opens, and Mrs. Douglas walks in. “Hey, how’s practise going?”

Dallon spins around and gives her two thumbs up. “It’s going great, Mrs. Douglas! Thanks again for letting us practise here.”

“Oh, no problem.” Mrs. Douglas smiles. “Besides, it’s been forever since Breezy’s had boys over. It’s nice to see her talking to someone other than Sarah.”

Breezy gives her an angry look. “Mom!”

Ryan suddenly appears behind Mrs. Douglas. “Hey Dallon, we gotta go. I have to go out to dinner with my grandparents tonight and I have to give you a drive home.”

“Alright.” Dallon turns back to Breezy and gives her finger guns at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Febreezy.”

All she can do is nod, her mind racing with all the possible things that could have happened if her mother hadn’t walked in. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

The eleventh time it happens, it’s because of a cold.

Two weeks later, they still haven’t addressed the awkward moment between them in Breezy’s garage. As much as they both want to, they just can’t. They feel uncomfortable just thinking about it.

Today, Breezy is back in the library and waiting for Dallon to come join her. When it’s been ten minutes into lunch and he still isn’t here, she takes out her phone and texts him to see where he is. He replies a few minutes later:

Hey, sorry I didn’t text you. I’ve become a victim of a cold that’s like a modern day bubonic plague and my mom kept me home from school.

She texts back:

Don’t worry about it. I hope you feel better.

He texts back almost instantly:

I’d feel better if I had some company. Wanna ditch the afternoon with Brendon and come hang out with me?

Her heart hurts a bit when he mentions Brendon, but she doesn’t think about it as she replies:

I doubt I can. I have a test I won’t be able to redo, but if that changes I’ll let you know.

He replies:

Can’t wait rawr xD

~~

As fate would have it, Breezy and Brendon would be unable to ditch the afternoon due to classes and tests and such. However, that didn’t stop them from driving over to Dallon’s house after school bearing gifts, such as Flaming Hot Cheetos and a Bee Movie DVD.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say.” Dallon grins up at them from his bed, his voice sounding very congested from his cold. “I’ve never felt this loved before.”

“That’s why we’re here, my dude.” Brendon pats his head before picking up the DVD and walking towards his TV, putting the DVD in so they can all watch the movie together.

As Breezy goes to sit on the bed next to Dallon, he says, “I strongly suggest staying as far away from me as possible. I’m highly contagious and I won’t hesitate to infect you with my modern day bubonic plague.”

Breezy laughs a bit, sitting down next to him but making sure to stay a few inches away from him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Brendon sits down on the floor, reciting the opening lines of the movie as Dallon and Breezy share a look of oh fuck, now we have to deal with this for the next hour and thirty five minutes. This ends up giving them an advantage, since Brendon’s so busy concentrating on all the dialogue in the movie, Dallon slowly moves his hand a centimetre a minute until his pinky is touching Breezy’s. She turns to look at him and he just keeps his eyes on the movie, watching her out of his peripherals. When she doesn’t look away, he turns and smirks. “Don’t worry, I washed my hands before you got here.”

She softly giggles, wanting to say that she wouldn’t have minded if he hadn’t, but she immediately thinks of something else that doesn’t make her sound crazy. “I doubt that, but okay.”

“Hey, hand-sanitizer works just as well as soap does.”

She giggles again. “No, not really.”

“Would you two shut up?” Brendon asks. “I can’t hear the movie over your annoying flirting. For fuck’s sake, just fuck already!”

Breezy moves her hand away. “No thanks. That’s how you get diseases.”

Brendon snorts. “It’s called living on the edge and using protection, Breezy.”

Breezy rolls her eyes. “Okay, if you say so.”

Dallon moves his hand towards hers again, this time resting half of it on top of hers. He’s pleasantly surprised when she laces their fingers together, and they spend the rest of the time watching the movie holding hands.

And one of them is almost unable to stop looking at the other. I’ll let your mind decide which one it was.

The eleventh time it happens, the librarian is a bigger cockblock than Mrs. Douglas.

“How do you not think David Tennant is daddy?” Dallon exclaims, earning a shush from the librarian as he follows Breezy, who’s stacking the shelves of the history section. “If anything, he’s the ultimate doctor daddy.”

“I don’t see it.” Breezy shakes her head. “I also don’t think of people as daddy.”

“Not even me?” Dallon strikes a pose that the author will leave to the reader’s imagination. “I feel offended, Ms. Douglas.”

“Good.” Breezy smirks at him. “You should.”

Dallon gasps, earning another shush from the librarian. “Wow, if you know how I feel why would you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth.” Breezy’s smirk gets bigger. “What, you can’t handle it?”

Dallon snickers. “Remind me why you’re still single?”

Breezy shrugs. “I honestly have no idea.”

Maybe I could change that? Dallon thinks to himself, trying to gather up the courage to ask her what he’s wanted to ask her from the minute he first saw her today.

Breezy looks at him. She looks at the goofy smile that always seems to be on his handsome face, at his messy hair that always manages to make him look like the best thing Breezy’s ever seen, and at his lips that she wants to kiss so bad.

Just one tiny kiss, she tells herself. That’s all I want. Just one kiss.

And so, without thinking, Breezy Douglas leans in and pecks him on his left cheek. She pulls back and watches his soft eyes widen and his mouth become agape at the realization of what’s just happened. “Um…” He mumbles.

Breezy looks down at the floor, her bottom lip taken between her teeth as worry settles in her stomach.

“You…” Dallon nervously swallows, bracing himself. “You missed, Breezy.”

She looks up at him, a look of confusion on her face. “What?”

Dallon reaches his hand forward and grabs her arm, gently tugging and dragging her closer to him. He steps forward, slowly leaning his head forward and tilting it to the right before awkwardly but gently pressing his lips against hers. She freezes as he pulls back, licking his lips and shyly grinning at her. “You missed before. I had to fix that.”

“Hey!”

Dallon and Breezy jump, turning to face the librarian, who’s glaring at them from her desk a few meters away. “No fooling around in my library!”

“Sorry, Miss Jackson!” Breezy calls, though she isn’t sorry at all.

They’re both far from it, actually.

The twelfth time it happens, it’s all because of Dallon’s sister pulling a few strings.

“Let me take you out, Breezy.” Is the first thing Dallon says to her after school the next day, leaning up against the locker next to hers as she puts her science textbook in her backpack. “I hope you know I’m not asking you, and that I’m telling you instead since I can’t take no for an answer at this point.”

Breezy giggles, looking up at him from the floor. “Well, at least you’re honest. But sure, I’ll let you take me out.”

Dallon grins, almost as if he wasn’t expecting her to actually say yes. “Sweet!” His grin fades from his face, a contemplative look now on it. “Wait, crap. I didn’t actually have a place prepared for this. I didn’t think I’d get this far. Where do you wanna go?”

Breezy stands up, shouldering her backpack as she thinks for a moment. “Hmm...I don’t know. Surprise me.”

And he does just that, when he shows up at her house that Saturday at midnight and convinces her to climb out of her window and go for a drive with him. He takes her to an ice cream parlour, where he explains that his sister works there and she was able to pull some strings and let them come by at this ungodly hour and be able to sit and eat as much ice cream as they want-but they only get ten minutes to do so.

“You’re lucky I love ice cream, Weekes.” Breezy teases as they sit down at a booth, six minutes to spare. “Not many other girls would leave the safety of their beds to come out and have ice cream in a strange part of town with you.”

Dallon shrugs. “Yeah, I know.” He goofily smiles, taking her hand from across the table and kissing the back of it. “And that’s why I’m so lucky right now.”

Breezy grins, her cheeks heating up at the compliment. “Oh, shush.”

Despite the short amount of time, they spend the six remaining minutes talking about Doctor Who and anything else that comes to mind. Breezy knows that Dallon’s a pretty random person who’s up to talking about anything, so making a conversation last with him is easy as long as she doesn’t give him short answers when they’re not needed.

Breezy doesn’t know if she’s ever met someone as easy to talk to as Dallon.

When the ten minutes are up, they get back in his car and drive back to Breezy’s house, parking the car in the driveway and looking up at the house, them both still in the vehicle. Dallon takes Breezy’s hand and brings it to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

“I really like you, Dallon.” She says, almost like a whisper.

Dallon looks up and grins. “I really like you, Breezy.”

“So, if we both like each other, does that mean we’re...you know?” Breezy asks.

Dallon shrugs, intertwining their fingers together. “Only if you want to be, because I know I sure as hell want to.”

Breezy gently smiles, and the action makes something in Dallon’s stomach flip. “Yeah, of course I want to.”

Dallon’s grin gets bigger as he leans in towards her. “Awesome.” He pecks her on the lips, the tiny gesture meaning so much for the both of them. “It’ll be nice having you as my girlfriend, Breezy Douglas.”

Breezy’s smile gets bigger too, their lips barely touching. “Likewise, you meme.”

The thirteenth time it happens, it’s a double date.

Breezy isn’t quite sure how, not even twenty-four hours after telling Sarah about her and Dallon, she finds herself in a Denny’s in a shady part of town with Dallon’s hand in hers while Brendon and Sarah sit in front of them, talking about whether the chicken strips they got look like dicks or not.

“They’ve been at this for eighty-four years.” Dallon whispers to his girlfriend, a term he’s been trying to use as much as possible now. “I can still smell the fresh Denny’s paint. The china back then had never been used. The booths had never been sat in. Denny’s was called `the restaurant of memes,’ and it was, it really was.”

Breezy giggles, whispering back, “I think that’s enough Titanic reruns for you.”

Dallon scoffs. “Don’t tell me how to live my life, Febreezy.”

“I’m telling you, this looks way too edible!” Brendon exclaims to Sarah, gaining Breezy and Dallon’s attention as he picks up a chicken strip and puts it in his mouth, pretending to deep-throat it. “Look at this!”

Sarah grimaces. “I’d rather not.”

Brendon takes the chicken strip out of his mouth, placing it on his napkin. “But do you see my point?”

Sarah sighs, exasperated. “If I say yes, will you eat the slobbery chicken strip?”

“Only if you give me money.”

“All I have is twenty-five Canadian cents and a Claire’s gift card.”

“I’ll take the gift card. Mama’s gotta treat himself to a new pineapple phone case.”

Dallon rolls his eyes, squeezing Breezy’s hand from under the table. “Oh, so you’ll buy yourself a pineapple phone case from Claire’s but you won’t pay me back for that time I had to call a taxi on your drunk ass?”

Brendon tilts his head in confusion. “Wait, which time was that?”

Sarah giggles, her eyes practically replaced with hearts as she looks at her boyfriend. “God, you’re adorable.”

“He gets it from me.” Dallon pretends to do a hairflip, making them all laugh.

Holy mother of God, Breezy thinks to herself as she sees Dallon smiling again. He’s the cutest thing to ever cute.

Every other time it happens, it’s never the same thing each time.

The first time they go to a school dance together, Dallon wants to curl up into a ball and cry because he’s never, and I mean ever, seen anything as beautiful as Breezy that night.

The first time Breezy met his family, she was accepted as their own right away. She was even invited to their monthly family game night, which Dallon told her to say no so she wouldn’t be scared away. When he caved and let her come to one, she’d come to understand why he told her to say no.

When Dallon met Breezy’s father, he was surprised to not be threatened with a steak knife with the usual `if you hurt my daughter I’ll shove this knife so far up your ass you’ll be shitting blood for weeks’ threat. Instead, he was given a pat on the back and an approval that sounded way too good to be true.

The first time they said the three words that can make or break a relationship, about five months into their relationship, Breezy literally cried. Out of happiness or sadness, I’ll let you decide, because the circumstances in which everything came to an end was far from happy.

I’d let your imagination do the work in trying to figure out what I mean, but that’s no fun.

When Breezy would later reflect on this night, as she sits alone in the library with her phone in one hand and her other gently gripping the couch she used to share with Dallon, she remembers almost nothing. They were both drunker than they’d ever been, and she doesn’t know whether to be thankful for that or sad that she can’t remember the last moments she had with him. When she woke up in the hospital the next morning, a mild concussion and scrapes on her knees, she was told that they went to a party where one of their classmates got a little too angry while intoxicated, causing him to pull a knife out and attack the person closest to him. He apparently, according to Sarah, dove at Breezy before Dallon pushed her out of the way and took all the hits himself.

The only part of that that Breezy remembers is being pushed by someone, causing her to fall and hit her head, and then cradling Dallon’s head in her arms as she cried and he told her he loved her. She, up until this point, has been sure that this is just a concussion-induced dream. She was positive that she’d wake up and Dallon would be right beside her to hold her hand and kiss her lips and just be there and not six-feet under the fucking ground.

Dallon always called her his library hero, but he was the hero in the end; he was able to save her from dying too young and being able to give her the life she deserves.

Right?


End file.
